


Quid pro quo

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Face-Sitting, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15661731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *McCree/Zenyatta* Jesse is tense and tired after a few long missions, so Zenyatta figures out he knows a way he can relax. pwp





	Quid pro quo

**Author's Note:**

> Been in a severe writer's block for over a month now and now i'm taking a week off of my computer to go on a short vacation w family, so I thought i'd leave this and when i'm back ill work twice as much to continue my genyatta. :

**Quid pro quo**

 

Jesse’s body is relaxed under his hands as Zenyatta brushes his fingers down his back, moving one last time from his shoulders to the base of his spine.

On the bed, Jesse makes a soft, happy noise deep in his throat, and Zenyatta answers with a pleased hum of his own.

“Hmmm, haven’t felt this good in _months_ ,” Jesse murmurs, stretching lazily on the bed. “Didn’t know I was _that_ tense until you just… went and chased it all away.”

His words make Zenyatta smile to himself. He has spent a good hour working the knots out of his body until Jesse went putty on the mattress, tension and stress drained from his body, though he has other plans now.

Zenyatta trails his touch lower, follows the curve of Jesse’s lower back to his ass, lets his hands linger for a moment, then moves away, amused when Jesse grunts, obviously displeased –though all Zenyatta does is grab the lubrication from the bedside table, popping the bottle open to slick his fingers with the warm gel.

“It is not surprising,” he says, conversationally, as he rubs his fingers together. “You never allow yourself to pause and rest.”

“Well, isn’t that what I’m doing now? Letting you do as you please with me?” Jesse turns his head a bit to flash him a grin. “Gotta love getting the all-inclusive treatment.”

Zenyatta lets his hand drop back to the base of Jesse’s ass, trailing up their curve, kneading the fat and pushing his cheeks open, just a little. Jesse’s shoulders twitch, and he glances at him once again, licking his lips.

Though he looks approving, Zenyatta just has to ask again. “Are you still sure you want… this?” They have talked it out even before starting, they both want this, but Zenyatta wishes to make sure, and allow Jesse to back out, if he decides he wants to stop at the massage.

Jesse smiles, at ease and amused, and gives him a thumbs up. “I’m not one to deny myself good things when good things come my way.”

Zenyatta looks at him, takes in the sight of Jesse’s naked body, the soft curve of his belly, the strong muscles underneath, dark skin with some scar here and there, and agrees –he can share that sentiment. “Am I a good thing, then? Or just this?” as he says this, his voice teasing, Zenyatta rubs a finger pad down Jesse’s ass, smearing lube against his entrance.

That sets Jesse off, a hearty laughter that makes his frame shake, but even the laughter ends in a shudder when Zenyatta makes circles against him, insistently, not pushing in yet but making sure Jesse is constantly aware of the possibility.

“Both,” he murmurs, and Zenyatta can hear the breathlessness in his voice now, the desire. “I’d damn well say it’s _both_.”

Jesse exhales and looks away, a buzz of pleasure travelling up his back with the anticipation of what’s to come.

Somehow, not watching Zenyatta makes the situation… hotter.

One hand moves to massage the base of Jesse’s ass, kneading the sensitive skin, and Jesse bites down on his lower lip, focusing on the sensation even as the other hand continues to rub and caress the skin around his entrance, never quite pushing in. Zenyatta’s fingers are warm but Jesse’s skin is hot to the touch, so they feel cool to him, in a distracting, pleasant way.

He is all too aware of Zenyatta shifting a bit to continue, though he has to stop to get more lube, moving so slowly Jesse is tempted to glare at him, even when his hands return to his ass only to continue their slow teasing caresses.

Zenyatta’s finger run over his entrance and away, then back again, rubbing against it, sliding lower, enough to almost reach the base of his balls and then moves away once again, slick and teasing, and Jesse almost chases it, biting down on his lower lip, heat pooling into his lower belly, his cock hardening.

“You’re one damn tease,” he mutters, voice hitching when Zenyatta’s thumb presses just a little harder, then retreats. “I can take that little, Zen. Give it to _me_.”

“Well…” Zenyatta runs his other hand back up Jesse’s back, kneading on all the spots he’s noticed before that are sensitive, and Jesse answers with a soft curse, arching into the touch, even as he continues to rub and caress without ever pushing in. “Patience is a virtue, Jesse.”

“Not… not in this, I’d wager.” Jesse tries to shuffle up, push into Zenyatta’s hand, but he moves just enough to put all of his weight on Jesse’s legs, keeping him pinned, and continues his teasing massage. “Oh, c’mon, Zen…”

“I quite like the sight,” Zenyatta says instead, fans humming just a little faster. “I would not mind slowing down for some more, Jesse.”

“ _Zen_ –”

“… but I guess, just this once, I will concede.”

Zenyatta shifts his weight to the side, twists his wrist and cups Jesse’s ass with his hand, index running down a path from the base of his balls up to his entrance and finally Zenyatta pushes _in_.

Jesse lets out a loud hiss, eyes fluttering close, and Zenyatta has a good view of his balls contracting, his cock twitching under him as he moves to push more into him, asking wordlessly for more. Zenyatta still takes his time, rubs the pad of his finger barely inside Jesse before retreating again, and chuckles deep in his synth when Jesse groans, fingers curled into fists on the mattress.

Jesse meets Zenyatta’s hand by pushing back into him, more lube dripping down the curve of his ass as the finger inside him moves a little deeper, spreads him, massages him in and out, and he lets Zenyatta know how he feels, mouth dropping open to moan enthusiastically every time Zenyatta pushes in again and again, adding his thumb and middle finger to scissor Jesse open some more.

“F-finally,” Jesse mutters, but he sounds breathless already, shoulders twitching as he moves back in rhythm with Zenyatta’s finger, taking it deeper and shifting his weight to let Zenyatta know where he wants him to go.

He does not disappoint, his finger buried within Jesse carefully moving inside him, feeling him tighten around it.

“Hmmm…” Zenyatta can feel Jesse shift, his back twitching, “you are… good at this, almost…”

He hums, amusement seeping into his tone as he replies, “almost as if I was made for this?”

Jesse twists to look at him above one shoulder, expression one of careful concern, brows furrowed as he tries, and fails, to read a face that has no real expression. Zenyatta pauses as well, one finger still deep inside Jesse, and waits.

“… were you?” Jesse finally asks, his tone hesitant, and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Would that matter?”

That seems to surprise Jesse because he shifts forwards and Zenyatta’s finger slips out of him, surprised but not moving as Jesse turns around, sitting and facing Zenyatta, uncaring about his unclothed state, eyes so sharp that Zenyatta feels the weight of his stare, heavy and penetrant, and has to restrain a shiver.

“Depends, Zen,” Jesse says. He sits with his thighs apart, at ease with himself and his every curve, and his cock is visible and halfway hard but his shoulders are tense, his jaw locked in place. “We did this… y’know, consensually, right? _You_ also want this? Cause you keep asking me, but, well… you gotta want this too.”

If it wasn’t such a heartfelt question, Zenyatta would chuckle –but he knows what Jesse means, and he is rather touched by the thought. It was Zenyatta who asked, aiming to help Jesse relax after a streak of long missions, an unplanned request that he did not quite expect would go this far, yet it did, and… he can see why Jesse would worry, now.

He has _nothing_ to worry –Zenyatta is not one to offer what he does not wish to do.

“I do,” he answers, simply, his tone mild but firm, and he shifts both hands to Jesse’s inner thighs, fingers splayed on the dark, smooth skin.

Jesse does not look down at the hands he feels on his legs, though he understands the gesture for what it is, and looks for a beat longer at Zenyatta’s face plate before he nods, and his shoulders relax and slump.

“… alright,” he says, clearing his throat. “Then no, it does not matter.”

Zenyatta’s synth crackles in amusement. “Do you wish to continue, then?”

“I… yeah, of course.”

He falls on the bed backwards, the mattress bouncing under them, and he pushes his legs apart to offer Zenyatta a full view of himself, as unabashed as always, worry replaced by cockiness.

Zenyatta hums, and changes tactics; he moves down, aligns their bodies together, though he still has his pants on, and rubs himself against Jesse’s front, feeling his cock push against him, taking interest.

Jesse tugs him down, links both of his hands around Zenyatta’s neck, and lets Zenyatta dictate the pace, their bodies moving together with Jesse pushed down on the mattress and Zenyatta on top of him.

It doesn’t take much to get Jesse back on track –his cock hardens where it’s pressing against Zenyatta’s covered modesty panel, and he pants open mouthed against the curve of Zenyatta’s neck pistons as Zenyatta pushes one leg up in the air, fingers running down the underside of his thigh, tugging him closer.

He’s distracted by the way Jesse is panting, his cheeks flushed, by the soft half curses he mutters when Zenyatta pushes him down into the mattress, by the heat that wraps around them both and by the perspiration on Jesse’s skin, enough that he loses himself for a moment, entranced, when Jesse’s eyes flutter close in pleasure, only to catch himself when Jesse’s hands move to the base of his neck, teasing his circuits and sending a spark of pleasure down his spine.

Zenyatta presses his face plate in the curve of Jesse’s neck, and sends a wave of omnic energy against his skin, feeling Jesse gasp and arch his back into him as he leaves a small mark on his skin, then–

He moves away, hands travelling down Jesse’s abs, feeling the coarse mess of hair and then the softness of his belly.

There’s desire coiling inside his own circuits, it makes protocols activate, his valve plump and still constrained behind his modesty panel.

“Ready to continue, then?” he says, and his tone is affected by the heat as well, the tone a fraction deeper, and Jesse’s smirk widens at that.

“Jesse McCree’s always ready.”

Zenyatta gives him a _look_ , and though he has no expression, Jesse still chuckles, shoulders shaking in mirth, as he still understands what Zenyatta means to convey.

When Zenyatta’s hand wraps around the base of his cock though, tight and unforgiving, Jesse only spreads his thighs further, leaning back on his arms, relaxed and at ease with Zenyatta between his legs, his other hand sliding down again, fingers still covered with lube.

It is easy to find his entrance and massage it, watching Jesse’s face as he does, and his cock twitch in Zenyatta’s grip, hard and ready, a bead of precome glistening at the very tip.

He slips his index back in and it goes easily, lubed and slippery, enough that this time he pushes the pad of his middle finger in as well, testing the stretch.

Jesse hums, arches his back and closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling. “Just… a lil’ bit harder, Zen…”

Zenyatta does so, careful to keep his movements slow but steady inside Jesse, sliding out then back in. Jesse is tight, sucking him in every time he pushes a little deeper, soft grunts leaving his throat, and it spurs Zenyatta on, seeking more of those sounds.

His other hand remains tight around the base of his cock, but he tugs it gently, pressing his fingers and then running his hand up, just enough to get Jesse to buck into him before he moves back down, denying him the friction he needs.

“Hnnn…”

Jesse’s moans echo in the air, and his voice hitches when Zenyatta finally finds his prostate, fingers curled inside him. His muscles spasm and clench around him, and Jesse’s hands clench around the sheets, pleasure obvious on his face and in the way he bucks into him.

“Yes, that’s– aah, yes, there you go,” Jesse licks his lips again, pants open mouthed as Zenyatta directs his full attention to his prostate, and moans again, bucking into him. “ _Fuck_ –”

The flush on Jesse’s cheeks burns down to his chest as he moans louder, and Zenyatta watches, transfixed, as he arches into him, cock so hard it’s burning in his grip.

He massages the underside with a thumb, careful not to give it too much, and Jesse curses again, more precome dribbling down the side.

“Y.. y’can be a little… fuck… harder, _Zen_ –”

Zenyatta ignores his plea, his pace steady and slow, and continues to fuck into Jesse with his fingers, massaging his prostate and the base of his dick at the same time.

He is slow, one finger making tiny circles against Jesse’s prostate, testing how sensitive it is, pleased when Jesse falls back on the mattress, the muscles of his thighs tense as he pushes them open more, baring himself completely to his optical receptors.

It is a beautiful sight, and Zenyatta can admire it fully, attention moving from Jesse’s red face down to his chest, perky nipples surrounded by fuzzy hair and down to his soft belly, fat and muscles twitching every time Zenyatta thrusts his fingers into him.

For a moment he wonders how it would feel to nuzzle his pristine face plate against the side of that fat, thick cock, smearing Jesse’s precome on the smooth metal, and he has to suppress a moan –this is not the time, but maybe… maybe another day.

Zenyatta focuses on the now, and curls his fingers again, sliding them deeper inside Jesse to rub both against his prostate.

Jesse grunts, arches into him again, heels digging into the mattress, fingers tangled in the sheets of the bed, and Zenyatta pushes his fingers even deeper, uses his thumb to press under his balls, and Jesse’s cock twitches violently in his grip.

Pleasure is hot and steady inside him, and Jesse lets himself go to it completely, chasing it by matching Zenyatta’s movements with his own, hips pushing into him with needy sounds.

“ _Fuck_ –” Jesse gasps, breathing harshly, and his muscles flex, but he makes no move to grab Zenyatta, or stop him, or even flip them around –Zenyatta is in control and he keeps the pace even still, ignoring how his own valve is aching and burning under his modesty panel.

The heat makes his processes hazy, and Jesse is tight around his fingers, squirming under him, hotter than anything Zenyatta has seen in a long while.

Zenyatta wants to lean down, press their bodies together, feel the curve of Jesse’s hard cock against his front as he pushes his fingers deeper into him but he refrains, because the sight of Jesse writhing on the bed with Zenyatta’s fingers inside him is too much, and he does not want to move.

“Zen… p–please… hhnnn…” Jesse swallows but can’t keep his mouth close, panting hard and eyes rolling back as Zenyatta continues to massage his prostate, and he shudders, toes curling into the bed.

He looks so lost in the pleasure and Zenyatta watches, transfixed, as Jesse’s cock gives another twitch, more precome dribbling down to turn the fingers around its base a slick mess.

“Are you close?” he asks, and his voice comes out as a throaty whisper as he continues his steady massage.

Jesse nods, frantic, pushes the back of his head into the mattress and arches up his neck, cheeks so flushed he looks like he’s burning.

“Will you hold on… for me?” Zenyatta asks.

His fingers rub circles into Jesse’s prostate, and his thumb presses harder under his balls. Jesse yelps, lost and breathless, and his cock twitches again, his balls tightening.

He is close, the haze in his eyes as he stares at Zenyatta showing how far into it he is, how _close_.

The pleasure is continuous, and pressing, but Zenyatta pauses, though he keeps his finger pressed against his prostate, not letting Jesse off the edge, not letting him _forget_.

“Will you?” he asks again, almost urgent, and Jesse shakes his head once, then nods, half of his face pressed deep into the sheets, and closes his eyes. “You are doing great, Jesse. You look…” Zenyatta exhales an artificial breath he does not need, allows his tone to colour with the desire he feels, “so good around my fingers. How does it feel?”

“G… good…” Jesse’s words slur and he swallows again, knuckles tight around the bed sheets, so tense and wanting and yet so obedient, holding himself together, just a little longer. “Zen, I… I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. Just a little more, Jesse.”

Zenyatta starts to run his hand up and down Jesse’s hard cock, slowly, fingers caressing the taut, hot skin up to the tip, and when he wipes some of the precome away with his thumb Jesse makes a strangled sob, biting down on the sheets and breathing through them, and Zenyatta teases him further, presses down on his slit, plays with his foreskin, stretched and wet, then tugs down his hand again until its back at the base of his cock, and his fingers move away from it, coming to press on that sweet spot between his balls and his hole as he continues to push his fingers inside, insistent, coaxing…

“Zen, Zen, Zen, ple–” Jesse spits his mouthful of sheet, buries more of his face into the bedding, his chest heavying with breathy moans, and when Zenyatta’s fingers rub mercilessly against his prostate he _sobs_ , arches up into him, and his cock bobs again.

He’s so close the pleasure and the heat make it hard to think but he still tries to hold on, trembling and shaking, as Zenyatta continues to knead and fuck into him with two fingers, forehead array dim as his full attention is on Jesse.

“I can’t, I c… Zen–”

Zenyatta lets him on the edge for a second more, greedily admiring the sweat rolling down his muscles, heady himself with heat and desire, then his forehead array blinks unsteadily, and he shakes himself.

“You have been so good to me, Jesse,” he murmurs, louder than Jesse’s heavy moans, “will you give it to me, now? You can come, Jesse. Come for me.”

He pushes a little harder, fingers fucking deeper into him, his other hand returning to wrap around his cock, jacking him off, and Jesse lets out a loud, strangled curse as he arches up into him again, body taut as he finally orgasms.

Jesse comes loudly and messily, groaning as spurts of white come splashing on Zenyatta’s chassis, his fingers and all over Jesse’s shuddering frame, down the side of his cock as it twitches in his grip, red and sensitive.

“Ah–”

Zenyatta continues to push his fingers into him, guiding him through his orgasm and right into another, his spent cock burning in Zenyatta’s grip as Jesse comes again, words slurring into a moan when Zenyatta still doesn’t stop, fingers taking more from him, and Jesse can only sob and thrust into him and give, the pleasure turning his body into putty as he slumps on the bed, trembling.

He looks undone, glowing in the aftermath, sated and boneless and fucked out of his mind, and still he writhes and moans as pleasure steals his breath away.

Zenyatta watches, valve aching and burning, as Jesse rides through his second dry orgasm, slows down his movements without stopping, fingers still rubbing into his prostate, Jesse’s cock soft in his grip even as they are both covered with the proof of his climax.

He could take more –he could coax Jesse into a third, have him beg with tiny, breathless whines as he continues to fuck into him, but he hesitates, unwilling to push Jesse more than he knows he can take.

Maybe another time.

Jesse’s heavy panting is loud in the silence of the room, and when Zenyatta moves away from his spent cock and takes his fingers out of his clenched hole, reaching for a tissue to clean them with, Jesse shudders and moans, so sensitive he keeps shaking.

“J-Jesus fuck,” he tries to say, but the words don’t come out quite right as Jesse looks up at the ceiling of the room, arms splayed out on the bed, and Zenyatta sits up to admire the view some more. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says again, draws the word out, and Zenyatta takes that as the compliment it is.

He runs his hand down the side of one of Jesse’s thighs, feels the skin twitch under his touch, then grabs more tissues to clean up some of the mess, idly cleaning most of Jesse’s chest and spent cock before moving to his own chassis, aware that Jesse is looking at him, eyes slowly regaining their sharp edge.

“Can I… uh,” Zenyatta looks up, letting the tissues fall on the side of the bed, and waits for Jesse to find his words. He licks his lips, swallows, but he looks hungry. “I want to…”

“It is not necessary,” he answers, ignoring the way his valve aches, and denies his own need. “I–”

“No, no, no, Jesse McCree won’t… I won’t… shit, you got me all fucked out here, can’t even put words right.”

“Thank you.” Zenyatta’s forehead array flickers in an omnic smirk, rather pleased. “Too bad I will not be able to take pride in leaving you speechless, considering the… setting.”

Jesse snorts, then shuffles up a little, leaning on his elbows. With his hair unruly and messy, cheeks still red, and looking… debauched, he is perhaps even hotter than normal, and Zenyatta’s circuits falter at the sight.

“I just want to return the favour. I _want_ to, Zen. Fuck, I really _fucking_ do.” His eyes flicker down to the front of Zenyatta’s pants, the hungry look intensifying.

Zenyatta hesitates –but only for a second. His valve aches, and he shivers under the intense gaze Jesse is giving him, the kind he finds himself unable to resist, nor does he truly want to.

“How…” he hums, unsure what to ask, the thought of Jesse returning the favour sending fire down his circuits, anticipation rolling down his back. _‘How do you want me,’_ he wants to ask, but feels even the question is too much.

Jesse’s lips stretch into a pleased smile, wide and amused and almost predatory. “Well, let’s see… I could…” he makes a show of thinking out loud, humming and rubbing his chin with one finger, “I could have you climb on my legs and rub your cock all over my thighs while I work on your wires, hmmm?” Zenyatta stutters at the mental image of Jesse’s prosthetic fingers dancing with his cables but Jesse is not done. “Or maybe I could do what you did, fill your pretty valve until you can’t talk…” Zenyatta makes a soft, quiet noise, hands shaking. He knows Jesse is playing around, but he has been keyed up since he started to work on him, and the idea of having Jesse touch him is… “but I actually know what I’d love to do the most, y’know, Zen?”

Jesse shuffles back down on the bed, wriggles on the mattress, parting his thighs to show himself again, and Zenyatta’s optical receptors travel down his frame to his spent cock again, feeling the impulse to climb on top of him to align his valve with it, and maybe push into it until it’s hard again and then–

“I want you to ride my face, Zenyatta,” Jesse’s words penetrate through the fog of Zenyatta’s thoughts, halting them. “Is that alright with you?”

It takes Zenyatta a few seconds to answer, thoughts of Jesse’s mouth against his burning valve too much for his overclocked processes, but the breathless assent he offers makes Jesse’s smirk even bigger.

He slides closer, feeling clumsy and heavy, sliding his pants down with only a moment of hesitation, embarrassed when he realises his modesty panel has already rolled out of the way, leaving him exposed to Jesse’s gaze.

His valve is plump and swollen, a trail of teal slick peeking from its folds, but before Zenyatta can feel self-conscious about his desire, Jesse makes a sound –deep and throaty and _hungry_ , and any embarrassment Zenyatta had vanishes.

Jesse wants it –wants him, and this leaves no room for any hesitation. He’s not just offering out of obligation.

It takes him only a second to be by Jesse’s side, looking down at him, and then it’s Jesse himself who helps him, hands guiding Zenyatta as he puts one knee on each side of his head, hovering above him, spread open and naked to his eyes.

“What a perfect view,” he hears Jesse say, and Zenyatta’s synth makes a loud, vibrating noise. He has no more words to tease Jesse with, not when he feels so close to coming and he hasn’t been touched yet. All he has left is the desire thrumming in his circuits.

He feels wet and ready, and he’s afraid he will come with barely any stimulation, but before he can warn Jesse about it, one warm hand caresses up his thigh and then pushes between his legs, a thumb barely having to part his folds to brush carefully against his exposed, glowing nub.

Zenyatta seizes, legs shaking, and both hands wrap around his synth, unable to muffle the embarrassingly loud moan.

“I…” he shudders as the thumb circles his nub again, harder this time, and feels the gush of lubrication drip from his valve and trickle down, hitting the curve of Jesse’s neck.

“Come down, Zen,” Jesse purrs, hands steady around the curve of Zenyatta’s thighs, “let me take good care of you.”

Zenyatta wants to move slowly, carefully, but Jesse tugs him down hard and he almost stumbles, valve coming in contact with Jesse’s warm lips.

He feels Jesse take a deep breath, feels the sensors on the underside of his valve flare up against his beard, and then–

Jesse parts his lips, slowly, drags them against the edge of his valve, and Zenyatta chokes on air he does not need, tenses up, and–

“ _Oh_ –”

It is like a warm, sensual massage –Jesse’s lips and tongue run slowly against his folds, lapping all the dripping lubrication and chasing it by pushing past his entrance and deeper, and since Zenyatta is sitting on his face, it is easy for Jesse to work inside him, panting and pushing his tongue in, Zenyatta clenching around it, chasing the sensation and grinding down into his face.

Zenyatta catches himself and freezes, fumbling to find something to hold and lift a little away from Jesse’s face, but Jesse keeps him there, his hands grounding, not letting him move an inch, and Zenyatta has no time to think about anything else because Jesse is as eager to eat him out as he was to have Zenyatta’s fingers inside him.

Loud, uneven sounds leave his synth as Jesse’s tongue laps inside him, then when Jesse sucks and gives a few licks at his nub, he arches his back and moans, the sound vibrating and splintering into static noise.

It feels good, too good, and then Jesse’s tongue pushes in and retreats again, teasing him, and Zenyatta shakes, hands scrambling for purchase only to find none, ending up covering his synth to prevent himself from making more embarrassing noises, and yet…

Jesse eats him out without restraint, maddening, sucking and licking and tasting, barely stopping, and it drives Zenyatta crazy. The sounds he makes –the wet slap of skin against silicone, Jesse’s lips smacking together, the lewd sound of his sucking and licking– only serve to make Zenyatta hotter, and he has no time to steady himself against the pleasure, no time to think, swept away by the heat and by how good it feels, and he knows, oh _he knows_ he won’t last, not like this, not–

Hands make it impossible for him to inch away, and he feels Jesse’s beard rub against sensitive sensors at the base of his valve, tickling him in a way that only makes him want more.

“Jesse, Jesse, please, I need–” his synth cracks again, dropping on the last word, and he grinds harder into Jesse’s mouth when the tongue refuses to breach him again and instead presses insistently against his nub.

His valve is aching with need but Jesse isn’t delivering, teases him, laps at his folds and denies him what he wants with slow, languid and sloppy licks, and… and…

Hands hold his thighs down, refusing to let him move an inch, and Zenyatta knows he’s whining, frame shaking, but he can’t help it.

His synth cracks and he chirps, his hands moving down to hold on Jesse’s hair, tugs at it, frantic and on the edge, his valve burning, and Jesse hums, the vibration travelling through his nub.

Another gush of lubricant drips out of his valve, only for Jesse to swallow it, mouth open wide, panting as he continues to tease Zenyatta and keep him still, until all Zenyatta can do is beg and call for his name in breathless pleas, tugging at his hair insistently, grinding into his face, hoping for him to finally give him what he wants–

Jesse’s hands travel lower on his thighs, fingers pushing them open some more, one hand slides down the curve of Zenyatta’s ass to reach lower, where Jesse’s mouth is, and his fingers rub the wet slick that is still dripping from Zenyatta’s valve down his chin before he uses them to dip inside, barely, just barely, and Zenyatta clenches down on his fingers, gasping and tugging his hair more.

He’s close –close enough that he feels little jolts in his circuits in preparation, feels the pleasure spread, and he juts against Jesse’s mouth, and–

Jesse finally pushes his tongue inside again, as far as it can reach, tilts his neck up to give himself leverage and pushes his fingers flat against his valve so they slip inside as well, stretching him and Zenyatta sobs, cries and folds on himself, climaxing hard and with short snaps of his hips into Jesse’s mouth.

“Ah–”

Jesse continues to suck at his nub, as greedy for Zenyatta’s orgasm as he was for his own before and Zenyatta feels the ripples of pleasure steal his thoughts, his system shaking as his processes get culled under his climax.

Fingers still reach inside him, milk his orgasm by rubbing at the sensors inside him, and Zenyatta groans and shakes, pleasure thrumming inside him until he feels as heady and putty as Jesse.

Hands guide him gently off his face and down his chest and Zenyatta stumbles a bit, oversensitive and trembling, and it takes him a few tries before he can slump at Jesse’s side, little jolts still shocking his system, making him jump.

Jesse pants, mouth open, lips swollen and lower face stained teal, chest heaving as he breathes deeply and harshly, but he looks satisfied, and when Zenyatta looks down, he sees a fresh streak of white all over his stomach where Jesse climaxed again without even having to touch himself.

Zenyatta makes a soft, wondering noise that ends in a surprised gasp when Jesse tugs him down against him, their bodies pressed flush together until Zenyatta is on his side, staring right into Jesse’s face.

He looks wrecked still, and Zenyatta’s optical receptors cannot look away.

“Jes– _ah_!” then he feels Jesse’s hand move between his legs to palm at his wet valve, feeling its swollen folds with his fingers, and he shudders. “Jesse, I’m–”

“One’s not enough, darling. I think I got myself an addiction.” Jesse’s voice is rough and raspy from lack of air, his eyes sharp and intense, and then he moves closer to press a kiss against Zenyatta’s face plate, lips curled up in a smirk. “Would be a fool if I didn’t indulge when I’ve got this feast ready for me, right?”

His hand remains flat against Zenyatta’s wet valve, pressing and massaging and rubbing lazy circles, and Zenyatta parts his legs automatically as much as he can, thrusting into the touch, already primed and online, pleasure still burning through his circuits.

Jesse is heavy against him as he rolls them over, pinning him down into the mattress with his weight, muscles and scent of sex and sweat surrounding him, and Zenyatta arches up into him, aligning their bodies together.

“Yes,” he says, forehead array stuttering. “I know all about temptation, and I would not… ah… I would not mind prolonging our fun…”

Jesse lights up above him, and then he pushes two fingers inside Zenyatta’s slick valve, and stretches it wide, and Zenyatta knows he will not leave this bed anytime soon.

 

 


End file.
